


Winter Snows

by renquise



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:57:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renquise/pseuds/renquise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kanen’tó:kon always liked early winter nights: the slow quietness, the stories and the bright warmth of the fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Snows

Kanen’tó:kon always liked early winter nights: the slow quietness, the stories and the bright warmth of the fire. 

The winter came earlier this year, crisp and heavy with snow, but the village was well-provisioned, from what he could tell from listening in to the adults’ conversations. It was still intimidating to try and join in, but he did manage to sound knowledgeable enough for the younger children, at least. After all, he was almost full-grown, though his shoulders were not so very broad yet. 

A lot of things changed, but winters never did: sometimes they were harder than others, but there was always the snows, the fire, and the slow thaw of spring that turned the ground to mud and freed the streams.

He glanced back at Ratohnhaké:ton, who was sitting further away from the fire than seemed comfortable, his shoulders wrapped in furs. Kanen’tó:kon scooted over, patting the ground beside him. “Aren’t you cold?”

“No,” Ratohnhaké:ton said simply. “I’m fine, really.”

Same as always, but Kanen’tó:kon had to ask. (They had all dealt with it a little differently. Others of their age had dreams. Kanen’tó:kon didn’t, mostly, but he still didn’t like to think of that day and his frantic search for Ratohnhaké:ton, wondering if he had been eaten by a bear, what he was going to say to Kaniehti:io—and then feeling his heart stop outright at the smell of smoke.)

“Okay,” he said, watching Ratonhaké:ton idly rub his hands together.

It was agreed, generally, that Kanen’tó:kon was not one for impulsive decisions. Most of the time. He put his hands out towards the fire, letting them get nice and hot, and then tucked them back inside his furs and scooted back to sit next to Ratohnhaké:ton. “Here,” he said, putting his hands out. “Can I…” he trailed off, suddenly unsure if it would be welcome.

Ratohnhaké:ton looked at him doubtfully. “What?”

Kanen’tó:kon steeled himself and reached out to take Ratohnhaké:ton’s hands between his. Ratohnhaké:ton gave a quick start of surprise, but did not draw back.

“There. That’s better, yes?” Kanen’tó:kon said, warming the chilled tips of his fingers. He darted his eyes up to look at Ratohnhaké:ton’s face, and then at their hands again, rubbing lightly. Ratohnhaké:ton had strong fingers from climbing trees and cliffs, and callused, too—he had hands for doing things, though they were now resting loosely curled in Kanen’tó:kon’s palms.

“Yes, thank you,” Ratohnhaké:ton said. As always, he sounded so serious and sincere, even when thanking people for the smallest of things.

Kanen’tó:kon slowly let go of Ratohnhaké:ton’s hands and tucked his own hands back under his armpits, tugging his fur blanket closed again. It really was a cold night, especially so early in the season, mid-winter still a long time away.

“Aren’t you going to go back by the fire?” Ratohnhaké:ton said, his face curious.

“I thought I might keep you company.”

“It’s not so far,” Ratohnhaké:ton said, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “I won’t be too lonely.”

“Right, yes,” Kanen’tó:kon said. He could feel his cheeks heating, and he didn’t have the excuse of the heat from the fire, either. He had never been quite this grateful for the relative darkness of the longhouse. “Still.”

Ratohnhaké:ton looked at him carefully. “Here,” he said, lifting up the wing of the fur blanket draped over him. “It’ll be warmer like this.”

Kanen’tó:kon hesitated for a moment, and then moved over until they were pressed to each other’s side. He readjusted the furs so that they cocooned them both, all tucked up around their necks and under their feet.

“Is that all right?” Ratohnhaké:ton asked, leaning against him. The curve of his lips was highlighted by the fire's glow, and Kanen’tó:kon felt something in his belly flip over.

“Oh, um. Yes. It's much nicer like this,” Kanen’tó:kon said. His voice squeaked embarrassingly on the last syllable, but Ratohnhaké:ton was nice enough not to remark on it. They were almost grown men, now, but Kanen’tó:kon still felt terribly young at times.

They didn’t say much after that, lulled by the comforting rise and fall of the conversation in the long house, until Ratohnhaké:ton’s head slowly drooped onto Kanen’tó:kon’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” he said, jerking back awake, his voice fuzzy with sleep.

“It’s fine, it’s all right,” Kanen’tó:kon said. He put his arm around Ratohnhaké:ton’s back and gently nudged Ratohnhaké:ton’s head back onto his shoulder.

Ratohnhaké:ton did not protest, the warm line of his body curving in towards Kanen’tó:kon. He was a restless sleeper, but Kanen’tó:kon was willing to take the chance of getting an elbow in the ribs for the the soft tickle of Ratohnhaké:ton's hair on his neck and the slow, steady beat of his pulse through his skin. 

The air had promised snow over the night. Perhaps they would go tracking together the next morning, the clouds of their breath puffing out into the winter air and the deer springing through the snow-laden trees. Maybe he would gather his courage and catch Ratohnhaké:ton’s arm as they made their slow way through the snow drifts, and press his lips to his, the tip of Ratohnhaké:ton’s nose cold against his cheek.

For now, he willed his arm not to fall asleep.


End file.
